Don’t Call Us We’ll Call You

March 14th 2025

I stretched out my yoga mat to catch the morning light coming through our back door.

I’ve lost a lot of upper body strength the last few years.

I never had to think about strength training or keeping my core engaged when I was still doing five and six hours of deep tissue massages a day.

But now that life’s become a little slower and softer?

So have I.

“Just ten drop downs into a low plank nice and steady” I thought to myself, “Just focus on your form and build from there.”

I dropped down and exhaled through pursed lips, hovering over the mat.

Chin up.

Back straight.

Focusing my eyes on the church’s steeple right in front of me.

Authors Photo

The view of the church from our back door.

I look at that church steeple every morning while I’m drinking my coffee. Just as the tree trunks are becoming visible and the birds are singing.

I look down at the building and parking lot while I’m putting away our fresh laundry.

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On summer nights we listen to the kids running around outside while we drink beers on the back patio.

“I wonder what’s goin on at the church,” my husband will think aloud.

“Young Mens and Women’s” I’ll remind him. “It’s Wednesday.”

At night after we’ve climbed into bed the lights of the parking lot stream across the the bedroom floor, until at 11 they finally go dark and my husband will say, “Good Night Mormons”

Authors Photo

It’s strange and entertaining that as we travel along life’s spiral, we come around to ourselves and to who and what we’ve encountered before, but always from another side.

A different view than we had before.

This exact church that I look at everyday just happens to be the church whose bishop was notified to gather fellow priesthood and come knock on our front door.

I’d never met these men in my life.

Never set foot in their building.

But almost ten years ago when I’d sent a formal request to have my name removed, the church authorities let me know they could not honor my request and that this was a matter for my local bishop, and I would need to state my case before him personally. Not to worry, he along with a few goons from the church would be gracious enough to come see me personally at my home.

No thanks.

A lawyer quickly jogged the church authorities memories that ah yes! They could in fact remove my name without dispatching priesthood holders to my private residence.

Honest mistake.

We didn’t set out to by this plot of land and build our first home directly behind this church.

This just happened to be the lot that the neighborhood developer walked us to and said,

“This is the one you want.”

Life always brings us around again and shows us the path we chose and where it took us in the long run.

How we look at ourselves and how things look to us from where we’re standing now.

And I don’t feel strong everyday.

Most days I’m scared and unsure but just excited and curious enough to try.

But I gotta say — in that moment on my mat?

Feeling my muscles ignite, with my chin up and my back straight, locking my eyes on that steeple that no longer looks so tall…

I couldn’t help but smile and think,

“Oh no sir, it is I who will be keeping an eye on you.”